


Parasitism

by expire_date



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26712979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expire_date/pseuds/expire_date
Summary: "What are you made of, a diode or a Turing machine?""Neither, just a kiss."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 2





	Parasitism

**Author's Note:**

> It's a Cyber Punk AU.  
> The work was originally written in Mandarin，and translation work was mostly done by machine so there must be lots of mistakes, sorry for that.

Crowley put down his glass of cheap ale and stared at the middle-aged man sitting next to him. He looked restrained, or alert, obviously tense with emotion, holding on to the purse in his arms. Crowley had seen a lot of people like that, most of his clients were startled, like a cat that was always worried about getting its tail stepped on, after all, they weren't doing any regular, legitimate business, and there was no wrong way to be careful.

"Are you A.J.C.?" the man asked in a low voice.

After all, this was the most seedy corner of the city, where the lights were dim, the music was deafening, the titless prostitutes were bargaining loudly, the drug dealers were peddling their newfound goodies with aplomb, the strangers passing by could get into a fight over a spilled beer, and everyone was so loud and boisterous that no one cared about the two ordinary looking people in the booth by the window.

Crowley knows this, which is why he always chooses this kind of place to trade. But he didn't bother explaining things to his clients, so he just nodded without speaking.

"My name is Aziraphale, and I'm contacting you this time in hopes that you can help me hack into Alpha Bio's terminal."

It was a direct customer, which Crowley was satisfied with, there was nothing to concern since he had already decided to come in and conduct the transaction. But it had to be said that Aziraphale's request was somewhat unexpected; Alpha Bio was now a well-known biopharmaceutical company, and had long been the industry leader, with no other company's technology being superior since it had cornered the market on mechanized electronic organs three years ago.

Crowley speculates that today's client is about an employee of some biotech company trying to steal Alpha Bio's trade secrets. But based on today's market demand, there's no chance of shaking Alpha Bio's position, no matter how it's done. But that's none of his business, he's just doing his part, so he just continues to ask, "Any specific requests?"

Aziraphale handed Crowley the purse in his hand, "Here's some internal information you might need. The last page has a couple of codes that I've handwritten, and I'd like you to make a copy of the experimental data in the database named after those codes."

This was not something that some random company employee would be able to get his hands on, Crowley became slightly more interested, skimming through the information in the purse, and said to Aziraphale, "I tell this to every client, I can't vouch for the successful completion of the task, but the completion rate so far is impressive, and if I'll refund the deposit if it fails, is there anything else you'd like to confirm?"

Aziraphale seemed to be on the verge of stopping, he adjusted his sitting position and hesitated before speaking, "I don't have any money, I don't know if you take anything else."

Crowley frowned, "I'm a hacker, not a philanthropist, I get paid to do things for profit, and whether you knew about it beforehand or not, I have to remind you that as the most business savvy hacker in town, I'm asking for a lot of money."

Aziraphale dropped his eyes and silently undid a button, and when he looked up at Crowley again, the expression on his face had taken on a bit of a churlish request.

"Three times, is that enough?"

Crowley's movements froze for a second, he hadn't been able to look his client in the eye much before, and the moment he finally acknowledged that he was eye to eye with Aziraphale, he felt like he was falling into a deep sea of amber. He licked the other man from head to tail with the rude and aggressive gaze of an octopus tentacle preying on a shellfish, and finally decided quite happily to pry open the clam shell to get at the pearl.

As they stumbled into the narrow public toilet cubicle near the bar, Crowley clutched Aziraphale's sweaty, cold hand in his cold one while the other went to undo the metal buckle on his belt.

"You can call me Crowley, if you need me later."

With that, Crowley once again rubbed his meat-and-potatoes eyes against Aziraphale's body with the meat-and-potatoes look of a carnivore about to eat, his lips red as if they had contained poppies and his skin as white and soft as the belly of a deep-sea fish, stimulating the massive production of dopamine in Crowley's brain. This dangerous appetite and libido-enhancing chemical would not normally work on Crowley, but today was different, today he was suddenly desperate to eat.

Eating in every sense of the word.

Hunger, fear, anger, excitement, any emotion that reaches its highest threshold translates into an animal's most primal needs. All species need to reproduce, hence the animal's primal instinct to copulate.

Sexual desire is paramount, and there is no sin in making love.

The intense, raging affair ended in a kiss that counted as gentle, Crowley's lips seemed to have no temperature and were like flakes of snow when they landed gently on the scar at Aziraphale's shoulder blade, causing him to shrink weakly.

Crowley cradled him in her arms and put on his own long trench coat again, asking casually, "What's with all those heavy scars?"

Aziraphale seemed weary, or maybe he was purposely pretending not to hear, but in any case he didn't answer the question, just straightened his clothes after regaining some strength and asked if Crowley could give him a ride home.

There was that look again, like a young, helpless, broken-winged chick. There always seemed to be tears in his eyes, the way they were about to fall in an instant, and no one could deny a look like that.

But Crowley knew that Aziraphale was a handful of flames that burned, and the heart of the flame was cold, but it could burn a man.

Scalding ice, icy fire, golden nights, dark dawns, he was all of them, and Crowley had met so many different kinds of people that he could tell that Aziraphale was different from all of them in some ways.

Before Aziraphale got out of the car, Crowley called out to him, "I'll see you next time in a week, this time for a deposit, next time I'll show you the preliminary results."

He expected a more enthusiastic reply, but Aziraphale merely nodded and didn't even invite him upstairs for a hot cup of tea.Crowley was a little disappointed, but he had probably forgotten that before tonight they were strangers who had never met before, and point-blank socializing was the normal situation.

It was probably the drawbridge effect, the darkness of the cubicle, the footsteps of passersby at the door, the beating of the heart, the touch of skin against skin, the faint scent of freesia, it was easy to become attached to someone floating in this dirty city.

But Crowley didn't say much, he just started working on Alpha Bio and looked forward to a second meeting in a week.

Time sure flew when he got busy, and Crowley was staring at some information he had compiled from the information in Alpha Bio's database when he received the message from Aziraphale. He glanced at the dialog box, and saw that the other party asked for the time and place of the meeting, Crowley sent a location, with a "9:30, my house".

Aziraphale rang the doorbell a few minutes ahead of the appointed time, and as soon as he was ushered into the living room, he hurriedly asked, "How's it going, any luck?"

Instead of answering him directly, Crowley put his index finger to his lower lip and said, "Pay me a kiss first."

Aziraphale was not annoyed, but took two steps forward on slight tiptoe to touch Crowley's lips. Crowley savoured the creamy softness of the kiss, his fingers delicately peeling off Aziraphale's dress like the wrapper of a toffee.

The toffee was hard to chew, but Aziraphale was the opposite, and the slightest push from Crowley to the base of his leg left two full, lusty fingerprints on the soft white flesh of his inner thighs, like petals falling in the snow.

The petals would wilt, the lust would not. Like dusty travelers in the desert who have stumbled into an oasis, they accompany each other to claim the crisp, sweet water of a fountain that never runs dry, and their story never ends.

At last Aziraphale called Crowley's name anyway, and dropped a row of shallow teeth marks on his shoulder.

Crowley lit a cigarette and reached for another stack of papers on the nightstand, which he didn't hand directly to Aziraphale, but looked at him somewhat inquiringly, like a lepidopterist discovering a new butterfly.

"Before I give you this information, I'd like to hear from you about what exactly happened to the scar on your shoulder blade. You should know that since I've hacked into Alpha Bio's terminal, I'll naturally be able to see your file and those lab records you need."

Aziraphale's expression was calm as he slowly sat up straight and leaned over on his side against the bed, exposing the two shocking scars to Crowley. A very slight rustling noise sounded and Crowley's pupils widened dramatically.

Unfurled behind Aziraphale were a pair of snow-white wings.

"The reason I was hoping you could help me export those experimental data was simply to denounce the company." With that he wrapped himself around the wings and turned back to look at Crowley, "Yes, I used to be a scientific researcher at Alpha Bio, a month ago I volunteered to participate in one of the company's trials, the company's top management announced to the public that it was a drug that had reached the final stages of human testing, I know many people who are suffering from this disease, so I I was willing to be part of the effort to advance this drug, but I just didn't expect it to end up like this."

Crowley looked at the records relating to those experiments, and even though he didn't know much about biomedicine, he probably understood that this was an absolutely inhumane and highly controversial experiment - extracting DNA from animals and implanting it into humans.

Alpha Bio had always been dedicated to maximizing the development of human potential, and the mechanized electronic organs embodied that purpose in a way, but what if there was a way to push the limits of what was human? Alpha Bio has been experimenting with DNA extraction-optimization-merging under the radar for years, and already had some experience with animal testing, so they looked to clinical human trials.

Aziraphale was the first test subject.

"When I woke up, all I felt was pain like my shoulder blades were about to crack, and I later realized they had implanted me with a processed and modified form of bird DNA, but the aftermath was still there, and my vision started to drop dramatically, and I expect I'll be completely blind in less than three weeks. The company said they would pay me compensation, and the requirement was to keep my mouth shut about the experiment from then on. When I refused they injected me with a chronic poison and swept me off my feet. I wasn't willing to just fend for myself in silence, so I found you."

Aziraphale took his time telling Crowley the whole story, he had nothing to hide because he had nothing to lose.

Crowley listened in peace and quiet, thinking in peace. His willingness to go on a drug trial for people he'd never met, and his willingness to sell his body for a chance to win a pebble for a pebble, made Crowley wonder how to define Aziraphale, was he a saint or a bitch?

Perhaps a more appropriate term would be that he was just an ordinary man with a divine nature, ordinary people love themselves, God loves the world, and he loves anyone who goes and dares to love.

Aziraphale still didn't stay long, and before he left the house Crowley asked him, "Do you regret it?"

"I am merely exchanging what I have for what I need, and wasn't this the form of bartering that was done before currency was widely recognized and used by human society?" Aziraphale smiled, put on his pure white cashmere scarf, and pushed out the door.

He needed to love the world, he needed to disclose the darkness, so like Prometheus the fire stealer, he was pecked inside-out by vultures. He was no longer whole, yet he was never broken.

Crowley suddenly realizes that he so desperately wants to love someone.

The third meeting was initiated by Crowley, and when he discovered in a casual conversation with Aziraphale that the other man had all the paperwork ready to go public with Alpha Bio's illegal experiments, he promptly invited him to dinner the next day to postpone the whistleblowing for a few more days.

Aziraphale agreed, and it seems that he never turned Crowley down, or even that it's safe to speculate that he probably almost never turned anyone down. His love and kindness was overflowing and cheap, but it was hard not to want it.

Early the next morning, however, Crowley received a document from Aziraphale.

"If I am not at my appointment tonight, please make the compiled information public for me."

Crowley, flaming from memory, arrived at Aziraphale's residence to break down the door just in time to witness him choking on his blood to the point of suffocation.

Aziraphale was coughing violently as he clambered over the edge of the bed, blood spattering the light-colored sheets like a shattered sun, and Crowley took a few steps forward to hold him against his shoulder, allowing him to cough up the blood that had choked his windpipe, not caring about the red stain on his clothes.

Aziraphale awoke abruptly in the early morning, the burning sensation churning inside him causing him to lie down on the edge of the bed and dry heave reflexively, but all he vomited was a mouthful of blood. Knowing it was chronic poison eating away at his body, he braced himself to send that message to Crowley and then died a generous death as fate would have it.

What he didn't expect was for Crowley to show up.

When Aziraphale was finally able to utter a complete and fluent sentence, Crowley carefully held his jaw and wiped the blood from his face with a handkerchief as if he were polishing a precious work of art.

As soon as Aziraphale raised his eyes, a tear fell, "I don't know if I'll ever get to the day they punish me."

"Don't worry, I'll get back twice as much for what they did to you," Crowley said, pulling out his phone and tapping on Breaking News to hand to Aziraphale.

In the latest morning news, several members of Alpha Bio's management were found brutally dead in their homes, described as wasted, with unknown black snake like creatures scattered around them, and the electronic devices in everyone's homes were searched for data that would prove they had conducted illegal human experiments, the details of which were still under further investigation.

See, I don't just want their names destroyed, I want them dead.

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

Aziraphale took Crowley's hand in his, his fingers cold as ice as he silently questioned Crowley about what had happened.

"I'm not actually human, I'm from a higher civilization. We are more diverse in our makeup than humans, and can choose to transform ourselves into binary structures, shape-shifting forms in carbon-based organisms and digital electronic circuits, which is why I chose to appear as a hacker in human society, I can access any closed-circuit network as easily as I can return to my own home." Crowley clasped his hands back in his palms and explained to him in earnest, "We're also very different from humans in our own right, mostly those black snake like creatures in the reports, so what you're seeing isn't what I really look like either, it's just a body that I've parasitized. I count myself as a leader in our civilization, and I was just the one who sent them through Alpha Bio's internal network to find people who had harmed you and parasitize them, and then snatch the nutrients necessary to sustain human life, which eventually turned into the situation broadcast on the news."

Aziraphale smiled, unable to say what emotion it carried, probably not that he cared much after having been transformed and lied to and betrayed.

He braced himself to drop a kiss on the corner of Crowley's lips, "Thank you, the poison is kicking in and now I have no other way out but to wait for death."

Crowley increased his grip on his palm and suggested another possibility, "There is another way out, and that is for me to parasitize you. I can repair all the wounds in your body, but you must accept me wholeheartedly, and from then on, we are in a symbiotic relationship."

Aziraphale didn't speak as he wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck and sent him another kiss that smelled of freesia and rust.

He decided to take him in wholeheartedly, and so they made love. They fit as if they were cogs biting into each other, and he became his bone inside his bones and blood inside his blood.

Finally the black viscous fluid enveloped him, seeping through his body like rotting lava from every pore, to invade, to repair, to restore the pieces to their full form.

He was enveloped, covered, dragged into the deep ocean by the sensation of sinking. But the sea water should cold, and he felt only warmth.

He realized he hadn't fallen into the deep sea, but had taken refuge in the womb. Here he was conceived, incubated, deconstructed, reshaped, amnioned into a true god, and he became a new person.

Parasitized, assimilated, taken in by another dimension, it all began with an unexpected sex.

Sex is great, praise the sex.

Late winter night on the street, the cold and hungry littel beggar was dying, suddenly a beam of fluorescent white light appeared in front of him, like the the fresco of angels under the stained glass in St. Giles Church , warm and soft.

The beggar opened his eyes, and it was a middle-aged man who had draped his long trench coat over him and handed him fifty pounds.

"Are you an angel, sir?" Beggar tilted his face up and asked innocently.

"Me? I'm just a douchebag." The man laughed and shook his head.

The kids looked into his eyes, the light vanished as if it had never been there, and he saw only a small black snake swimming in the translucent turquoise amber.

Fin.


End file.
